Page 107 of The Ruthless Note

Her lips curl up.

I pat her shoulder. “When I accepted the scholarship to Redwood Prep, I was determined to graduate, even if it meant graduating alone. But now, things have changed.” I hold her gaze. “I’m determined to graduate together.”

She snorts. “That’s so cheesy.”

But she looks touched.

“It’s okay to have a little hope, Serena. If you don’t, life is too painful.” I tilt my face to the sun. “We all have something worth fighting for.”

A thoughtful look crosses her face. I’ve seen that expression before. A quiet little worry that will snake into a conversation or a joke or just a moment of silence. It steals over her face, making her look older, wearier.

I’ve always hesitated to ask about it, and I don’t think today—with all that’s going on—is the best time.

She clears her throat. “Enough about that. We have a few days to come up with a plan and we still need to figure out where Sol’s head is at in all this.”

“Speaking of Sol, have you seen him?”

“No, he and Zane went tearing out of school during second period.”

I chew slowly. “It’s so weird to me. How did someone as sensitive as Sol ever get involved with a beast like Dutch?”

“Same way nice boys from bad neighborhoods get pulled into gangs, I guess.” She shrugs. “The promise of family, of belonging.” Serena sets her sandwich down and brushes the crumbs on her PE pants.

“Belonging,” I mull the word over. What does belonging to Dutch, likereallybelonging to him, feel like?

I can’t imagine his brand of loyalty. The ruthlessness. The cruelty.

And yet it invigorates me to think that someone like me could tame a monster like him.

Damn, I’m insane.

Serena looks out over the bench. “Everyone wants to belong somewhere, you know.”

“Everyone except you?” I tease.

“I’m fine being lonely.”

“Is anyone?” I challenge. “Don’t we all want to fit in somewhere?”

She shakes her head. “The thing with loneliness is that you don’t expect it to be as powerful as it is. Once it has you in its clutches, it holds on for good. With no intentions of letting go. And then it follows you around, digging its claws in deeper and deeper.” Her smile is flat. “I’m okay with that, but people like Sol weren’t built like me. Sol won’t ever turn his back on The Kings. And they won’t turn their backs on him either. That much, everyone knows.”

In the distance, I see Paris and her crew of pompoms get up from the table and head our way.

My shoulders tighten as I prepare for a fight.

“The Wicked Witch of the West is approaching,” Serena mumbles.

“I saw her.”

The cheerleader saunters to a stop in front of the picnic bench.

Serena holds up a hand. “Sweetie, you’re blocking my light.”

“I thought vampires didn’t like the sun,” Paris shoots back.

Serena fakes a sneeze and then glances up. “I think I’m allergic to fake spray tan. Cadence, I’ll see you later. This environment isn’t good for me.”

“Try not to set any more fires while you’re gone,” Paris calls.

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